


Fancy Bumping Into You

by Reloumi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Christmas Party, Coffee Shops, Confessions, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford Has a Nice Ass, Cullen has a mabari called Barkspawn, Cullen has a potty mouth, Drunken Kissing, Groping, Happy Ending, I don't think I could drive home the fact any more that this is a soulmate fic, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Ninja beta Dara, POV Alternating, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Dorian Pavus, Self-Doubt, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Ugly Sweaters, his nickname is Spawnie, omg what a perfect tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29196822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reloumi/pseuds/Reloumi
Summary: What would it be like to have a soulmate?Your perfect partner whom the universe allocated to you and you alone?Thoughts like these had always been present in the back of Cullen's mind, though to receive your soulmark and have the chance of finding them meant you had to have made eye contact at least once. In a world as big as Thedas, with the millions of people who inhabited it, the chance of meeting your soulmate was impossible... wasn't it?
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Fancy Bumping Into You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pickle_turtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickle_turtle/gifts).



> Happy Belated Holidays, Mando! 
> 
> This is a Secret Santa gift fic for the lovely [Pickle_turtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickle_turtle/pseuds/Pickle_turtle), here on AO3. I'm very late finishing this, but better late than never I guess? I hope you enjoy it and that it was worth the... _two month wait_ 😬😅
> 
> To everyone else, hello! Please get comfy, maybe get snacks and a cuppa? Idk, whatever floats your boat. I am painfully British, and I have made every effort to make this fic enjoyable for everyone but some idioms or dodgy spellings may have slipped in, whoops!

It was a typical, drizzly Monday morning in Val Royeaux and Cullen had already had a bad start. He had forgotten to set his alarm, so he was running late for work, his dog had barfed into his favourite gym shoes, so he had to dig out the pair from the back of his closet that was half a size too small and had seen better days if you looked closely, and to top it off this barista was taking too _fucking_ long to prepare his coffee. He shook his head and mentally slapped himself for calling out the barista so rudely, even if it was in his head and the innocent college student hadn’t heard a word and was happily fulfilling his order… he simply took longer than necessary, and it further soured Cullen’s already prissy mood.

He’d begun to zone out when a couple with far too much PDA for 8:30 am squealed in surprised delight and it drew his attention to the scene before him. The two women nestled in the corner of the student cafe could barely contain their glee as they took turns kissing each other and staring unbelievingly at the other’s forearm as if whatever was on it was a miracle. Which… it _was._ Soulmates, Cullen had deciphered as he saw _the mark_ when the blonde girl threw her arms around the shorter redhead. The rarity of such an event to happen, even in a place as big as Val Royeaux, was a wondrous thing to witness even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

Every child had heard the story of their true partner, the one who was meant to be and was sealed with a mark magically inked into the skin; but the difficulty with such an astonishing possibility laid within the small print, since to find your soulmate, you’d have to have already met and made eye contact. In a world as big as Thedas, with Maker knows how many people, you’d have more chance of being struck down by Corypheus’ re-animated corpse itself than finding your soulmate. Which was why Cullen hadn’t bothered, choosing to ignore the happy couple in favour of brushing his hand frustratedly through his blond hair before burying his face in the ignorant bliss of his phone. 

He stood awkwardly to the side of the counter to wait for his order and breathed a long and heavy sigh as the surprisingly comforting sound of the glorified Keurig ground the coffee beans which would provide his life fluid. He’d just entered an almost meditative state when a commotion that started outside broke him from his trance. He focused his hearing a bit more and registered it was some student who was receiving a verbal dress down from a tutor for whatever reason. If Cullen were a better and more responsible professor, he’d be going out to either back up his colleague or defend the student, but alas, his order was finally delivered to the counter and the steaming liquid distracted him entirely from any heroics he could perform. 

It was easy to ignore the irritating creak of the shop’s door as he busied himself with the creamer and the cinnamon shaker, already mentally preparing himself for the reluctant and sullen walk to his first class, which no doubt would end in a bunch of college kids complaining about the cold. Yeah, _it was cold,_ it was the middle of Verimensis and Wintersend was fast approaching. Besides, physical activity and being out in the elements built character… at least that’s what Cullen’s old professor used to tell _him_. 

He tipped the cup slightly in each direction to make sure the lid was on properly before turning to make his exit. Though it didn’t exactly go as he planned. His shoulder was thrust back, sending him off balance and bracing for the inevitable sting of hot coffee that never actually came, and instead he was staring into the worried, grey eyes of a slightly haggard and panicked man. It took him a moment before his senses came back to him. He blinked heavily and stared at the other man’s mouth as the perfectly coiffed moustache that adorned it, distorted as its owner spoke a million miles an hour, probably apologising though Cullen couldn’t say for certain. He was too busy just _looking_ at him. Respectfully, of course.

It wasn’t due to his looks, though saying the man looked like he had stepped out of one of Cullen’s… more _compelling_ dreams would be an understatement, with his dark hair and steely eyes that complimented his bronzed skin. No, it wasn’t the attraction, it was something else… something _weird._ A strange pull forced him to keep looking at him, to take in every detail he could, so he would never forget the face of the man who almost shoulder checked him to the ground. 

“Sir? Are you okay?” The man asked and it worked to break Cullen from his embarrassing trance and notice the steady glow of force magic keeping the coffee cup upright in his slack grip.

_Well,_ that was about as effective as a bucket of ice water being splashed over his head. He noticed the full-body chill as the realisation of the use of magic so close to him caught up with his senses, and he forced himself to not act outwardly to his uneasiness around it.

“ _Um,_ fuck, shit, yeah,” Cullen screwed his eyes shut in a cringe at the awkwardness and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, “I mean, yes. I’m fine, thank you. I should have been more careful.” 

The brunet man raised a single eyebrow to suggest he didn’t believe him before shaking his head, “The fault is all mine; if I wasn’t in such a rush it wouldn’t have happened. Probably shouldn’t have interrupted my coffee run to scold some kids about littering. I’m Dorian Pavus of Qarinus; _Altus_ , and more recently Professor, _weirdly_ , and you are?”

“Rutherford,” Cullen answered immediately, unthinkingly, before realising this wasn’t a football field and you didn’t usually introduce yourself by your last name in normal conversation, “ _Cullen_ Rutherford. Nice to meet you, Dorian.”

The blond swallowed visibly before offering his hand to shake, the attractive mage perturbed him, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. Thankfully the other man didn’t waste time in returning the handshake, though when their palms connected it was surprisingly a comforting feeling. 

_Like coming home._

Cullen decided he was too freaked out to question what in Andraste’s tits was going on, but he somehow found himself chatting amicably and slightly suggestively to Dorian until they were both late to their respective classes. Coffee now chilled as they stood outside the campus coffee shop, the minutes ticking by faster than was fair. Cullen realised that Dorian never ordered a coffee, choosing instead to talk to the stranger he steamrolled as an alternative to caffeine and _boy_ was he flattered. 

The brunet idly checked his wristwatch and grimaced, “As much as I’ve enjoyed speaking to you, I’m unfortunately going to have to cut our chat short. I’m five minutes late to my first class.”

“Oh, _fu-_ dge, that means I’m five minutes late, too,” Cullen chugged the remainder of his coffee and threw it in the tin can near them, “If management gets on your ass about being late, blame me. I’ve been here long enough to take the heat and it’s unfair for you to get into any shit on your first day.”

“I… thank you.” Dorian stumbled over the words, seemingly taken aback by the gesture, “I suppose we’ll bump into one another later in the week at the staff meeting?”

“It’s a date.” The blond winked before turning on his heel and jogging towards the gymnasium. “Just please don’t actually bump into me again.” He shouted as an afterthought.

_‘Since when am I_ that _forward?’_ Cullen muttered to himself when he was out of earshot, choosing to not turn and offer a small wave to Dorian in favour of getting to his class as soon as he could. It wasn’t until he was drilling the importance of endurance into his students, that he realised that something significant had been missing from Dorian Pavus.

The irritating smell of lyrium.

~

Dorian could feel his cheeks blush at the blatant flirting he just witnessed and couldn’t quite find the will to function whilst Cullen and the whole _Adonis_ vibe he had going on was still in his eye line. When the towering male was out of view, he patted his briefcase to relieve some errant excitement he was experiencing course through his body and made his way to class.

Thankfully, there was no reprimand to be had at his tardiness, and a few students appeared relieved to find their tutor was also late. It somehow sparked an unspoken understanding and his first-ever lesson as a Professor of Necromancy went without a hitch. The rest of his day was spent meeting countless students and fellow professors, and it was tiring. The nonstop pleasantry and repetitive story of _‘How did an Altus become a professor?’_ wore him down to the point of exhaustion, and when he finally arrived back at his apartment he barely had time to think of the familiar curly blond hair of the man he had met that morning before gracelessly passing out. 

Three days had passed until _it_ happened and Dorian wanted to forget _it_. He did _not_ see a certain _mark_ on his forearm, nope. Not a chance. It was impossible, wasn’t it? A blasted soul mark? It was an inky depiction of a sword with symmetric flames… the clear sign of a templar. Of _course_ his fucking soulmate would be a templar, of all things! He’d already spent hours panicking that his soulmate could be one of his students before he realised it was too unlikely. His students ranged from sixteen to eighteen, none of them fit the criteria to have the Templar order as such a significant part of their lives. 

No, it had to be a fellow teacher, but who? He’d met over twenty of them in the past three days alone- _Nope_ , he was not interested in going down that line of thinking. He didn’t care that he had a soulmate, not if it meant anything like the relationship his parents had. 

Soulmates were nothing more than a stupid fantasy. His parents had soulmarks respective of their partner, and look where that got them. In a loveless, spiteful marriage that resulted in a son that they managed to drive away with their constant bitterness, which was nothing like the stories described. If they were the sort of soulmates from childhood depictions, they would be in love, and they clearly were not.

Dorian would be surprised they were still married if it weren’t for the social standing it gave his parents in the Magisterium. It was a well-known fact that soulmates were of a particular appeal in places of power as they could be deemed more trustworthy for _whatever_ reason. Dorian thought it was utter bullshit. His parents were venomous people whose animosity would often leach further than their marital bond to him, and he couldn’t stand it. It was the biggest contributor to why he’d bailed on Tevinter, his beloved homeland, for the pompous city of Val Royeaux.

So yes, apparently Dorian had done the impossible and met his soulmate. But he didn’t care, not one bit.

Okay, maybe a _little_ bit.

Considering that it was the main thing on his mind during his office hours and during the night whilst he slept and dreamt. He’d be overseeing a pop quiz and find himself daydreaming of the relationship he and his soulmate could have before he quickly tried to suppress the thoughts entirely, though it only served to make them far stronger and more repetitive. 

Friday came around quicker than he expected and with it, the day brought the first staff meeting he would attend. Lectures would start later in the morning to allow the many employees a chance to catch up on recent events and any news or reports they needed to be made aware of. He eventually found the vacant classroom being used as a rudimentary meeting place and easily clocked the mistletoe hanging under the door jamb, ready and waiting to catch those unsuspecting colleagues who might not be paying attention. It was a harmless bit of fun Dorian found he appreciated, it toned down the whole _‘rod up the ass’_ vibe the university had, at least. 

He waited until he was clear of getting caught out under the foliage and ducked into the room, finding the space almost full to capacity and awaiting the dean, board members and a couple of other professors. It was easy to move to the side of the room and blend in with the surroundings, even if it was nothing like his usual nature. Dorian preferred to be in the spotlight most times whilst living up to the true ‘peacock’ nature his family was known for, but for once, it was surprisingly invigorating to not have to put on a show every moment of his day and quite simply _exist._

It was in this line of thinking that he found his mind zoning out, so much so, he didn’t notice the presence looming at the side of him, getting closer and closer until he was knocked off balance and tumbled into another professor who he mumbled an apology to.

“Sorry,” the familiar, melodious voice of the curly-haired gym teacher offered, clearly bemused he’d managed to catch Dorian so off guard, “Figured it was only right to return the favour.”

“And here I thought you didn’t want to bump into me again.” 

Cullen smirked, clearly amused by something he wasn’t prepared to share, “In a physical sense, and I never said anything about _me_ bumping into _you.”_

Weirdly, Dorian found the fashionably late nonchalance of the other man to be wildly attractive, another detail to add to the already long list of ‘Things he liked about Mr Rutherford’. The man, thankfully, didn’t expect a reply and was happily sipping on his coffee - though Dorian just noticed the steaming cup surreptitiously placed on the sideboard he was leaning against and eyed it suspiciously.

“Are you particularly parched?” He asked innocently, though Cullen threw him an arched eyebrow and grinned in response.

“For you, actually. I feel guilty you didn’t get that drink when we first met, so I’m paying it back.” He twisted the steaming cup of black coffee before lifting it from the holder, offering the cup, “I got black coffee since it’s the hardest thing to fuck up. I have creamer and all the crap to gussy it up as you see fit if that’s how you like it.”

Dorian was too busy gawking at the gesture of the other human to fully take in what he had said before hastily nodding; a minute, uncharacteristic smile on his face, “I… thank you.” He was quiet for a moment longer in thought, “How did you know I’d be here?” 

“Gut feeling, I guess? Also, this is your first staff meeting, so I couldn’t imagine you’d miss it since you get introduced to the staff like a new student.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Dorian began to ask until he noticed the dean stride in and make eye contact, beckoning him over with a slight wave and warm smile. 

_‘Fuck’_ He muttered to himself, a warm feeling vibrating through his core and to his limbs when he heard Cullen laugh at his predicament and offer a shoulder pat in unspoken understanding.

“Go get ‘em.” The blond man winked, _again._ The audacity of some people. 

Thankfully, the introduction wasn’t as embarrassing as he had expected, however, he did notice that the _so-good-looking-it-should-be-illegal_ gym teacher was hanging on his every word as he gave a small synopsis of who he was and what he taught, _yadda yadda._ The usual newbie-teacher bullshit, though the way the dean went about it made it awkward. It was over quick enough that the suffering wasn’t too harsh, plus, the chorus of well wishes and warm welcome was a stark contrast to what he had expected from the University of Val Royeaux. 

The meeting soon shifted to important news and upcoming events, and Dorian started to zone out again as the dean and board members rattled on about annoying scheduling and supply details. He was grateful that the speech allowed him to move away from Cullen, even though he didn’t particularly want to. It merely allowed him to breathe and think without his overbearing presence fogging up his resolve and carefully cultivated morals. 

Sure he didn’t believe in soulmates, or marks, and yet here he was fantasising about having precisely that with Cullen, a man who didn’t seem to have anything to do with the Templar order at all… though he was the right age for it to hold some significance- _No._ Dorian. _Stop that._ Sure, he had a soul mark, but wouldn’t that only put the other man off? Surely he’d recognize the ink permanently etched into his forearm as a ‘Warning: Back the fuck off’ sign. He sighed softly, making sure not to disturb the other professors, and rubbed his palm across his face. If anything, the mark did him a favour, it meant that any future romantic conquests would only ever be a fling and could never end up like his parents’ relationship.

He noticed his phone buzzed in his pocket and chose to ignore it the first time, though the second and third time was harder to ignore. Who the hell was so adamant on contacting him? He merged further into the corner once again and pulled out the handset, shocked to see a string of messages from none other than his father. Considering this was the first contact with him that he’d had since leaving Tevinter, it was a shock this was his way of communication. 

The first link was of a news article for a gossip site in Tevinter, and the first image on the page in perfect clarity and colour was his mother kissing another woman. It shocked him, of course, but he quickly skimmed the article and found speculations of his parents getting divorced, or at least separated. Dorian thought it was a bit extreme to suggest two soulmates would divorce… especially in Tevinter. He swiped out of the news article and back to the string of texts his father had sent.

Life-giver: I thought it best to let you know what is happening back home. 

Life-giver: Your mother has sought the affections from another woman, and has informed me that we are getting a divorce. 

Dorian: That’s a bit… drastic? Don’t you think? You’ve been together for all this time, unhappily, and now she has found a consort you’re divorcing? Won’t your position in the magisterium be affected? 

Life-giver: My social standing will not be affected, and your mother has renounced her affiliation on her own accord due to certain beliefs she has. The divorce is due to the woman she was photographed with, she is her soulmate. 

Dorian stared dumbly at his phone and realised the dean was wrapping up the meeting, and the room slowly started to filter out with each staff member carefully avoiding the mistletoe-trapped door. He noticed Cullen making his way to the door, and they both made eye contact and exchanged a warm smile, the other man tapping his watch in an apology for not coming over to speak. It was a relief, Dorian didn’t know what he’d say to the man after his father dropped a bombshell like that. 

He wasted no time checking the classroom wasn’t to be used for the next lecture and dialled his mother’s number, the repetitive ringing sounding only twice before he heard her greeting.

“Hello, darling.” She began, and it was clear in her voice that she was happier, “I already know why you’re calling and I understand it probably comes as a shock-“

“A shock! A _shock! Are you joking, mother?!_ A shock would have been you declaring I was having a younger sibling, this though? I never thought this would happen, I’m blindsided and I want answers.”

“Dorian, darling... I… I thought you would understand. If it upsets you that I have found love in another woman, I am sorry but-

“Woah woah woah, let’s stop that right there. This isn’t me calling to berate you on the choices of which gender you’d prefer to take to bed, you know _my_ thoughts on the matter. I’m talking about the divorce, you’re leaving Father? After all these years of living in misery, you choose now and apparently you’ve found your soulmate? I thought father was your soulmate?”

His mother sighed heavily down the phone and began to explain what she and his father had done. Early in their courtship, his mother and father had realised their emotional and physical connection was negative and their relationship would only serve to improve their social standing within the magisterium, bolstered only by the addition of the pair being soulmates. It’s a neat trick in such a vain country as Tevinter, but his father's solution to the slight insignificance of a missing soul mark was to simply… fake it. The pair got symbolic tattoos of their partner, with the condition that if either party was to actually find their soulmate and receive a soul mark they were able to divorce and now, since the agreement was now nullified with the discovery of his mother’s soulmate, his parents were doing just that. His father had gained enough of a following in the magisterium for this to not serve a negative hit to his reputation, and his mother wanted nothing more to do with the life of a political marriage, instead choosing to chase love.

As he bid his mother goodbye with the promise to speak soon, Dorian didn’t know how to react. He was simply numb. All the time he’d been denying his soul mark was for nothing? His parents had simply _lied_ to him and now he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had both too much energy, and too little to outwardly react the way he wanted. 

In the end, he simply decided that distraction was the best course of action, and quickly scooped his half-empty coffee cup from the sideboard as he headed for the exit, only stopping when he clocked his reflection in the mirror of the door. Or rather, the coffee cup's reflection. He scowled in confusion and turned the cup around before realising what was written across the paper cup and instantly blushed. He’d never blushed so much in his life as he had after starting at the university, and it was the same person causing it every damn time. He bit his lip and smiled as he pulled his phone out once again, carefully inputting the phone number from the cup before leaving to teach his next class.

As the following week progressed, Dorian started to romanticise his soul mark, since now he knew all the information he’d been fed first hand from his parents was all complete and utter bullshit. He couldn’t help being slightly jaded regarding the otherworldly occurrence of a soulmate, but he decided he wouldn’t waste the opportunity. He was one of the lucky ones to have found his soulmate; he had the soul mark to prove it, which meant someone out there had a matching mark for him, and he was going to find them. 

~ 

Friday morning rolled around at a snail’s pace and once again Cullen found himself being jerked awake as the realisation that he’d forgotten to set his alarm _again_ sunk in and roused him to a sudden, dizzying level of awareness. Luckily, this time his gym shoes were spared from his dog puking into them, and he had enough time to prepare himself a coffee in a thermos. He inhaled the dark roast as he grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit and gave his dog a few pets before he hurried to work. He hoped that he might actually bump into the nerdy necromancer he found himself pining for and yet arrived at his first class of the day with time to spare but no sight of Dorian.

He had hoped the mage would text him, but the staff meeting had been a week ago, and he hadn’t seen the man long enough to strike up a conversation, only in passing and for a fleeting glance before he disappeared into a classroom. He had tried, at least, maybe the man wasn’t into guys? Maybe he simply wasn’t into Cullen? No, he preferred the first, at least that wouldn't wound his pride. Maybe Dorian would show up to the staff Wintersend party, and he could apologise for coming on too strong… though, only after he had a bit of liquid courage coursing through his veins. 

It was precisely this topic that he found himself fixated on as he got ready that evening, holding up two hangers which had entirely different outfits on them. One was a tasteful plaid shirt, with festive colours intertwined, the other was a hideous ugly sweater his sister had sent. It had arrived that morning, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her it hadn’t arrived in time, he couldn’t lie to Mia, or Rosalie for that matter, since both of them were responsible for this monstrosity. He could cope with the subtle templar theme of the knitted design, even the clashing red and green colour scheme. The pom-poms and tinsel were taking it a tad too far and the flashing lights made it tacky, even though it was clearly well-constructed. 

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, noticing his mabari, Barkspawn, had decided to join him in the room.

“What do you think, Spawnie?” He asked the dog, though his only reply was an inquisitive tilt of the head and a bored yawn, “Yeah, I know the feeling, bud.”

He hung the sweater on the door and pulled his phone out of his jean pocket to text his older sister, finding a text already there from her.

Sister 1: I know it got there, Cullen. Don't try and deny it and stop fretting, wear the damn thing and put something nice on underneath. It’s only for the first half-hour whilst they have the contest anyway.

Cullen: Contest? What contest?

Sister 1: ... Ugly sweater contest? Jfc, Cull. Don’t you read the university website?

Cullen: What do you think?

Instead of a text reply, his sister called, “I do have an ulterior motive,” Mia explained instead of a greeting, “The main prize is a coffee maker and since you recently bought one it means _I_ can have it if you win.”

“Ugh, is that why you sent that awful thing?”

“Of course, I want to win.”

Cullen rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, his sister would put him up to this. “ _Fine._ But you owe me for this, even if I don’t win.” 

“Pinky swear.” 

The siblings bid each other goodbye and Cullen finished getting ready, leaving the sweater off for now and deciding to put it on when he got to the Wintersend party - no need for the suffering to start straight away, right? Though the twenty-minute it took to arrive at the venue went by far too quickly, and he had to wear the dreaded thing anyway. The obvious templar themes were almost overshadowed by the garish yet festive red colour scheme stitched into the knit, then there were the Wintersend lights and _goddamn bells._

Cullen sighed and decided to just wear it with pride and a smile. He could take a joke and didn’t mind making fun of himself usually, it just didn’t help that a certain someone would be at the party who he’d like to impress and turning up in something that looked like Father Winter, in all his fictitious glory, vomited wasn’t exactly his idea of flattering. 

That _certain someone_ just so happened to be on the other side of the door, and he was unintentionally able to repay the favour of bumping into _him_ this time. 

Dorian made a squeaked sound of surprise as he was drinking from a glass and turned to make eye contact with Cullen, slowly swallowing the liquid and licking the sweet red grenadine from his lips before smirking. Cullen was positively enraptured by the entire display, and it was hardly suggestive or flirtatious.

“Well, fancy bumping into you. _Again.”_ The smirk hadn’t disappeared from his face and it was then when Cullen noticed the purple glitter in the other man’s moustache. 

It suited him.

He breathed a relieved laugh and rubbed his neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. Listen, I’m glad I bumped into you so soon, I wanted to… um… _apologise._ For coming on too strong or whatever; flirting basically and I might be... barking up the wrong tree.” 

“Oh,” Dorian's eyes were wide with surprise and he blushed like he didn’t expect the direct approach, “You’re _definitely_ not barking up the wrong tree. And it’s not unwanted.”

The mage lowered his gaze as the flush on his skin darkened and took a sip from his glass, his eyes clocking the sweater Cullen was wearing. The intense stare was panicking him, he didn’t want to go into his past as a Templar as it would merely make the tentative thing he had developed with Dorian downright awkward. He was just about to say something to distract them when someone nudged him to get his attention, turning to see the dean. 

“Cullen, my good fellow. I see you weren’t so observant this time.” The man said, his face split in a shit-eating grin.

“What do you me- _oh.”_ He sighed, glancing up to see the goddamn mistletoe trap he’d inadvertently stepped under, with Dorian. 

_‘Oh no!’_ Cullen thought sarcastically and nodded towards the other man, wordlessly asking for the others' consent before he ducked his head and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. As they pulled away from each other, the dean had somehow appeared on the stage further into the room, announcing the start of the ugly sweater contest and asking those participating to join him. Reluctantly, Cullen put some distance between him and Dorian, though he shyly took the man’s hand and led them both through the crowd.

The stage lights were irritating and far too stifling as Cullen stood on the stage with the nine others who had been narrowed down by the dean and board members. Now it was down to ‘public vote’ and the crowd was to decide the winner. The dean made his way down the line, asking each contender to step forward so the crowd could applaud their sweater and the winner would be whoever got the loudest response. An entirely rudimentary and unfair method when you thought about it, but he didn’t care when he stepped forward and the building erupted in applause, shouts and whistles. 

Maker… Mia outdid herself. He chuckled in disbelief as he watched the crowd continue to shout and scream and raised his arms in victory as the dean declared him the winner. After a bit of an unnecessary speech, he was allowed to jump down from the stage and met back up with Dorian, taking the man’s hand and leading him through the crowd and out to the garden where the smokers and people who needed fresh air went. It was cool but not unpleasant as they stepped outside and Cullen nonchalantly pulled the sweater over his head, the shirt underneath untucking from his pants and showing a glimpse of skin. He was sure he heard a sharp intake of breath and turned his attention to the other man.

“Care to do the honours or would you prefer we do this the old-fashioned way?” Cullen asked, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and sparking the flame to life.

“Oh, thank Andraste! It’s hideous!” Dorian laughed and conjured a flame, setting the garment alight as soon as it touched the cobbled stone floor. “Did you want a coffee maker that bad?”

He smiled at the question and gestured for them both to seek the warmth of the venue, “Let’s just say my older sister likes to get her way and meddle.” 

The mention of his sibling provided a natural and somewhat relieving conversation starter. Anything was better than addressing the strange chemistry they both could detect, and it meant they could get to know each other better. Cullen had dutifully listed his siblings, nieces and nephews, choosing to avoid going into too much detail about his parents, before asking Dorian about his family, though he didn’t expect the pointed glance and eye roll. He didn’t expect the man to be an only child, and they soon found themselves comparing their childhoods, growing up alone versus growing up with his brother and sisters.

Cullen had just finished retelling a story from his childhood when he heard a title he never thought he’d hear again shouted across the hall. 

“Knight Commander!” The voice rang and a few conversations died down in interest until they continued a moment later, “I haven’t seen you in years!”

“Barris, you know I don’t go by that title,” Cullen beamed at his old friend, pulling the man into a one-armed hug and giving a firm pat on his back, “You look well.”

The former templar was so distracted with his former colleague that he hadn’t noticed Dorian had almost choked on his drink, his breathing squeaking like a deflating balloon between coughs, “You were a templar?” He asked in a wheezing voice.

Cullen smiled sheepishly and nodded. He had known this was going to happen eventually and it was best it happened sooner rather than later when _feelings_ happened and it'd be harder to step away from… whatever this was between him and the mage.

“Ugh… _yeah_ , yes.” He sighed heavily and excused himself for a moment to ask Barris for a moment of privacy, alongside the promise to catch up soon, “I’m sorry for you to find out this way, but I didn’t know how I could bring it up without making things… awkward? Shit, that screwed me over, huh? It’s even more awkward now.”

“I… what are you talking about?”

“The whole issue between templars and mages? I wasn’t exactly innocent when I was a part of the order, and some things happened I’m not proud of, and some incidents left a lasting… _scar,_ so to speak. But when I’m with you, it’s- I don’t know, those things that happened to me don’t seem to bother me anymore.”

“ _Cullen-”_

“Shit, I know this is really fucking… _weird?_ ,” Cullen interrupted, panicking that he might have screwed up his chance, “I expected you to smell like lyrium. That shit plagued me for years, and whenever I meet a mage or templar, or even someone who took it for fun, I can smell the remnants immediately and it would almost make me want to start taking it again, and I don’t want that. Now either you don’t take it or there’s something unexplainable happening and I don’t- ” Cullen cut himself off, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, or what point he was trying to make, all he knew was his nervous mouth was running itself and it was better to quit before he’d descended into a panic. 

“Breathe.” Dorian requested, his grey eyes almost piercing into Cullen’s soul. “You don’t need to explain yourself, I feel it too.”

“We hardly know each other,” Cullen laughed and closed the space again between him and the mage to rest his head against his, “but it feels like I’ve known you forever.”

Dorian sighed happily and leaned into the embrace before snorting with laughter, “That has got to be the cheesiest pick-up line I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a few.” 

“Oh?” Cullen asked, his ego only slightly bruised. “Care to share any with me?”

“Ah, I would love to oblige but I feel they would be inappropriate for a sober tongue to utter. I’m willing to change that, of course. There is a free bar for us to abuse.”

“Lead the way.”

~ 

Dorian wasn’t entirely sure what stumbled onto the floor as he and Cullen made their way into the latter’s apartment. In all honesty, who could blame him? He _was_ busy trying to keep up with the other man as their lips continued to meet over and over, in between the occasional bite of the lip and exploration of the mage's neck. It was exhilarating. He was certain he’d noticed a mabari had come to investigate what all the fuss was and thought better of the situation when he spotted the cause of the sound. 

He was happy being blindly led through the apartment until he felt his back being pressed against a ledge, and then the sound of keys rattling on a counter after being haphazardly discarded. At least he knew they were in a kitchen whilst he was making out with this dreamboat. Dorian knew he needed to talk to the man, and have a serious conversation, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted this more than his need to sate curiosity, and if he was being honest, he was a little worried that Cullen might not be his soulmate after all. Surely the man would have said something, right? 

He was broken out of his thoughts as he noticed the flex of battle-worn hands, clenching his thighs, and helped by jumping slightly to effortlessly perch the counter, his legs mindlessly wrapping around the former-Templar’s waist. He pulled the man closer with his legs and tensed his muscles slightly, eliciting a filthy moan which sent electricity directly to his already-very-interested cock. 

Well, how the fuck did they get here?

It had to be the Antivan wine. If anything other than the obvious chemistry and suggestive undercurrent to their conversations was going to lead to the two of them making out like horny teenagers on a kitchen counter, it was always going to be Antivan wine. 

It’s probably why Dorian couldn’t help but grin when Cullen had procured a bottle for the pair to drink. He knew where the night would end up, and he couldn't say he was at all disappointed, especially since the blond was currently nipping away at his jaw and slowly making his way down to his neck, _and biting him._

He could feel the niggling at the back of his head that he should address the whole soulmark situation, and at least bring it up so the guy wasn’t shocked when he removed his shirt, which could have been at any moment with the way things were progressing. Unfortunately, with the alcohol coursing through his veins and impairing his judgement, it did seem far too much of a chore to be bothered about it, and would he really notice? His conscience did chide him for that, and he was about to say something until he suddenly felt suspended in air and carried through Cullen’s apartment. The show of strength and confidence did wonders for Dorian’s libido, and royally screwed up his train of thought. What was he going to say again?

Cullen gracelessly kicked the door to a room open and Dorian had enough presence of mind to realise it was the bedroom, only truly realising they’d progressed this far as he was carefully placed on the edge of the bed. He moved his hands to hold the other man’s head whilst he kissed him deeply, finally remembering what he needed to say before this went any further. 

“Cullen, I need to,” He began, stopping and starting as the man sucked and nipped a new place, making him lose focus, “need to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Cullen asked, placing another lingering kiss on Dorian's neck as he moved back, allowing enough space for him to remove his shirt, “About what?”

“I have a-” Dorian cut himself short, instantly sober as his eyes focused on their reflection. 

“Fuck, _Dorian_ , are you okay?” The man asked, obviously concerned that his once very sexually interested partner was suddenly as pale as a sheet. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost… wait, you kind of do that regularly... you get my meaning.” It was a stupid joke, but a joke he had hoped to lighten the mood.

Dorian, though, could only open and close his mouth for a moment, before finally making a sound, “You… you’re my soulmate.”

Cullen laughed at first, but he quickly sobered too when the mage didn’t join in. Raising his eyebrows, he indicated for Dorian to elaborate.

“I wondered why you hadn’t mentioned it. I got my soulmark the day after I met you, _hell_ , I thought it _was_ you even then but since you never said anything I- _fuck_ , I’m not making any sense,” Dorian sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, asking the man to turn around so he could take a picture. “You never said anything because you couldn’t see it.” 

The blond was confused, but as he took the phone and studied the picture. The realisation slowly sunk in. There, between his shoulder blades was a matching soulmark to the one Dorian had carefully studied on his arm, though Cullen’s had the inky depiction of the Tevinter heraldry, the one thing Dorian held closest to his heart, his _home_. The same art style further confirmed it.

“ _Holy fff_ \- wait, what?” Cullen stuttered as he made sense of everything, he stepped over to the dresser and picked up a hand mirror to see the soulmark for himself, realtime, “This… this is real?”

Dorian wasn’t sure how to take the reaction. It wasn’t negative at all and it scared him. Deep down, he had expected to be outright rejected, so this bizarre limbo was both terrifying him yet left him hopeful. It was a massive change in his opinion of soulmates, considering his aversion barely a week ago. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asked out loud when he meant for it to be in his head, and the mage couldn’t help but mentally slap himself. Whelp. His insecurities were clearly rearing their ugly head without his permission.

Cullen was too busy admiring the reflection to fully reply to the question at first, but as the words slowly made their way through the blanket of wonder and impossibility the man was currently experiencing, he frowned before it was replaced with a wide grin.

“ _Disappointed_. You’re joking, right?” The blond threw the hand mirror into a pile of laundry and closed the distance between him and the mage, offering his hand to pull Dorian to his feet.

Dorian had seemingly waited too long to reply, and the blond decided to begin his effort to inflate the mage’s ego, which in all fairness was the best thing, since the man couldn't fathom this blatant… acceptance? Was this what he was trying to deny all this time? Because, damn, what a Maker forsaken idiot he was. 

“I’ll warn you now, I’m probably going to be pretty sappy.” Cullen admitted, stroking his thumbs across Dorian’s flushed cheekbones, “But I feel like I knew you were my soulmate from the beginning, y’know- when you tried to mow me down with your one-man army pursuit of coffee. When we made eye contact it was like the universe was cheering for us, which in some strange cosmic way it probably was. Though at the time we didn’t understand it or even _want_ it.”

“I… I knew I wanted you.” Dorian whispered into the quiet of the room, “Soulmates or not, there was something different about you, but then I found my mark and I panicked. Who in their right mind would entertain a relationship; even one on the more _physical_ side, with someone who had a soulmark? Especially one as blatant as this. I was worried that if you saw it, it would ruin my chances so… I tried to distance myself. And then you bought me coffee and my father told me he faked his soulmark and practically everything I knew about soulmates was a lie it just-”

“Your parents _faked_ their soulmarks?” The blond whistled in disbelief, “They actually go that far in Tevinter?”

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh at the question, albeit a little solemn. It helped stop him rambling and fixating at least, “You have no idea… oh, you probably want to see this, yes?”

The mage went to lift his sleeve, though took a moment to check out the ex templar, naked from the waist up and decided it was only fair to even the playing field. Sure, their shared evening was a lot softer than what he had anticipated, but the night was still young. He undid three buttons and pulled the maroon fabric above his head and threw it unceremoniously across the floor, uncaring where it landed. 

There was a smouldering fire within Cullen’s eyes that Dorian hadn’t noticed before, and it reassured him that the flame of want and desire they lit for each other earlier that evening hadn’t gone out. He offered his arm for the former templar to see, and he placed his hand on his shoulder to turn him around, allowing them both to view their soulmarks together. 

It was surreal and impossible… but it somehow still happened?

Cullen caressed the mark with his thumb and sighed, “Maker's breath, this doesn’t feel like it’s real. It’s like I’m dreaming.”

Dorian brushed the tips of Cullen’s mark and sighed, he hated being vulnerable but couldn’t help himself, “So you’re not… disappointed?”

He could feel his arm being pulled so he could face Cullen once more, and the worry was evident on his face, “Dorian, in what universe could I be disappointed?”

The mage was about to offer the multitude of reasons he felt unworthy of the happiness he had within his grasp. The past relationships that were fleeting and only ever for sex and nothing more had left him feeling like he didn’t deserve love, and yet the universe deemed him worthy of a soulmate that didn’t allow him the opportunity to be self-deprecating, and instead sighed heavily enough to distract Dorian.

“You’re funny, kind, refreshingly honest and not to mention one of the hottest people who has ever bumped into me. Time literally seems to fly when we talk, and truthfully; the day we met, you were a shining light in my shitty day, and every day since then has been better than the last. I felt… more complete, which I guess in a sort of cosmic way, I was- _am.”_ He corrected himself and cleared his throat whilst Dorian fought the urge to throw himself at the man, “And to top it all off? You chose me over having coffee.”

Dorian snorted as he blushed, unsure how to unpack the raw honesty, “Are you usually this sentimental? Or is the fact that we’re soulmates the reason you’re being so syrup- _y!_ " Dorian squeaked out the last syllable as the world around him spun, and he clung to Cullen out of reflex.

The deep and joyous laugh that erupted out of Cullen was enough to thaw the last tendrils of doubt and caution Dorian had about soulmates, and he soon found himself laughing too, the happiness too infectious to resist. 

It was difficult to ignore the jaded thoughts on soulmates that nagged him in the back of his mind, and even more debilitating to know they were all for nothing and were based on a fake marriage for political gain. Thankfully, the laughter and blood that rushed to his head as Cullen slowed to a halt were enough to sate them for now and Dorian was happy to be carefully lowered back to his feet, his hand resting atop the rapidly beating heart of his very own soulmate. 

“This is all very lovely, and I can’t say I’m at all disappointed in how the evening has progressed, but I do believe we were in the middle of something.” Dorian could feel his cheeks heat, slightly from the alcohol still in his system though mainly due to his blatant flirting. 

Cullen smirked and cocked an eyebrow at the suggestive tone, “Oh, really? I might need a reminder of what that was.” His hand stroked down Dorian’s back and rested on his ass to give it a confident squeeze, suggesting he was a complete liar and just wanted the mage to make the first move. 

“The pleasure is all mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, but most of all I hope you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> Although I am marking this fic as complete, I do have the full intention of writing the smut scene which the ending alludes to. I wanted to add it as a second chapter for those who maybe weren't interested in that and simply wanted to read a wholesome and fluffy soulmate fic with just a sprinkle of spiciness. Check back for updates in the near future!
> 
> A huge thanks to my beta, [Dara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dara3008/pseuds/dara3008), who has also been my cheerleader whilst writing this fic <3
> 
> If you feel the undying need to yell about all things Cullrian, feel free to join our Discord server, https://discord.gg/jDes5W98yN, it's an amazingly welcoming place which I'm happy to be a part of.


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